Among the ashes
by Sxphyre
Summary: Ib's memories have been reclaimed, and to her dismay the Guertena Art Exhibition has been locked up, and all the paintings are going to be burned. Including her lost friend. Mary, Ib's adopted sister, begs her to stay, but to no avail. Ib is anxious and will long to see Garry's face once more, no matter the circumstances.


**I feel so bad for not updating... I really have a need to publish this. Here ya go peeps. ;-;**

I clutched my head as memories flooded it like streaming water into a small pond. It felt like memories were dumped, too many, and it started to overflow. I stumbled backwards, and Mary eyed me in curiousity.

"What is it, Ib?" she asked, but I didn't say a word. I fell to my knees, and held my head in my hands.

"Are you okay?"

"Ib! Answer me!"

"Leave me alone," I snapped, and she took a step back in surprise.

"But Ib, I want you to look at my picture,"

"I said leave me alone!" I almost screamed, and she ran away, eyes watery. I tried to attempt to get ahold of myself, but I couldn't. The reality of it all felt like a punch in the gut, and as if my insides were being crushed.

Garry...

He's been dead for 3 years now.

Harsh reality slapped me in the face, and the tears just spilled out of my eyes. I didn't even think about it, they just came out, and I felt them stream down my face, and drop onto my hands.

It was all my fault.

Mary always seemed different. She was surprisingly stubborn as a sister, and was spoiled to death. But she wasn't real... she was a painting. But that was before. Garry is a painting now at the gallery.

I got to my feet, wiping another tear from my face, and I looked to the messy drawing Mary had drawn in crayon. There was a doll- a blue doll, and it was had a bright red rose in hand. It's smile was unnaturally big, and took the corner in my hand.

Why did you give her your rose?

I bit down so hard on my tongue, I could taste the blood. I just bit down harder, and ripped the drawing to shreds. Breathing hard, I threw the ripped up pieces to the ground. I could no longer feel my tongue, and I had a heavy feeling in my chest. I had to go back to the gallery.

"Mommy, she just-" Mary said, opening the door with Mom behind her. Her eyes widened, and she dove to the ground with the torn paper.

"My masterpiece!" she said, and I could tell she was on the verge of tears, but I could've cared less. I brushed past her, and tried to go past Mom, but she stopped me.

"Ib, young lady!" she said in a stern voice, but I kept going, and shut the door behind me. I jumped up the stairs and went into my room and locked the door behind me, then plopped on my bed. What was there to be done? I was in trouble for hurting Mary's stupid feelings, and I wasn't going to be satisfied until I went to the gallery.

I stared at the wall blankly as the doorknob was turned, and I heard a knocking.

"Ib, open the door. Apologize to your sister," I heard Mom's voice say, and there was sobbing outside the door. I didn't move, or divert my glance from the wall.

"Ib! Open the door now!"

I got up and trudged over to the door, as slow as I could.

"Ib, you better open the door at this second or I'm going to-"

"What?!" I yelled as I swung the door open. Mary was holding the shreds of paper and sobbing, and Mom looked so angry, I felt she would rip my head off with no mercy.

"You better apologize to your sister right this moment,"

"I'm sorry, Mary," I said blankly, clutching my fist. If only Mom knew what demon Mary was. She killed an innocent man for her own selfish purposes. I never wanted to walk to her again.

"It's not okay! I hate you! You ripped up my masterpiece!" she wailed, and Mom gave me a glare.

"I hope you learn to forgive me one day," I said, trying not to catch her glance, and I swung the door shut. Surprisingly, it didn't open back up and I got a little free time to sulk and cry to myself. Why did Mary get whatever she wanted? Why did she pluck Garry's rose? I was a mess of tears, and it felt as if I was staring at the wall forever, until I finally sulked myself to sleep.

The next day, my mind was too full for conversation at any point. When someone talked to me, I simply ignored and carried on. I didn't hear anything the teachers were talking about, and I didn't eat lunch. At my last class of the day, we took out our laptops to take some notes. I took mine out, and my mind wouldn't stop thinking about the image of the man with the torn coat and purple hair. It was so long ago, but the memories were lucid and clear. I had to go back to the museum. Something inside of me told me it wasn't all over, and I could still see him once more.

Instead of taking notes, I opened the internet browser and searched up the Guertena Art Exhibit. It was a good few miles away from school, but I longed to go there. Not in a few weeks... now. I looked up how long it would take by foot, and it came up with 3 hours and 45 minutes, but I ignored the numbers. It was a little farfetched, but I felt down inside I could do it, I could go there today.

After class, I felt as if I was in a dazed state. I was desperate to go, but how would I get back? I could take a bus... I knew a bus came around right after school. I checked my bag, and there was a good amount of money in there.

I flew down the stairs of the middle school and raced to where the lower school was. Mary was sitting in her usual spot, waiting for me. She usually got out five minutes earlier than me, just because she's in the lower school.

"Ib! Ready to go?" she asked, and I put my hand on her shoulder, too desperate to be angry.

"I'm going to the library to study with some friends. Tell Mom I should be back home by dinner," I said, and she nodded. She skipped off to the exit, and I took a breath of relief. I walked over to the high school exit, and took out my phone and looked at maps. There were a bunch of students waiting for the public busses, because school busses obviously got old after a while. I joined them, but most of them were high schoolers and they gave me a strange glance. When the bus arrived, I boarded and went with the flow, and picked a seat in the very front. I stared at my phone, looking out the window every now and then. After a few minutes, the bus came to a stop and students got off, and others boarded.

After about ten minutes of continuous starting and stopping, we got to a stop close-ish to the museum. I decided to get off, and walk the rest. I hopped off of the bus, and walked along the sidewalk, getting closer and closer. When I saw a familiar area come up, I started to jog, then bursted out into a sprint. I liked my feet thumping on the ground, and I felt better and better as I got closer.

The parking lot was empty, and I could've expected more, but I ran to the entrance, but stopped in my tracks when it came into view. It felt as if my heart was crushed, and all hope was lost.

The entrance had caution tape on it, and there was a metal gate that had a sign that read, "Keep out," I keep walking forwards, my eyes wide in disbelief. This wasn't real, was it? I grasped the cool, iron bars of the gate, and clutched it so hard that my knuckles turned white.

What happened to the museum?

Was Garry still here?

I fell down to my knees, tears leaking out of my eyes, while still clutching the bars.

"Let me in," I said, inaudibly, and shook the gates that didn't open. I shook harder, but to no avail. I didn't have the strength to stand, nor sit. I collapsed in a heap at the bottom, my hands just barely touching the bottom of the gate. The bitter breeze bit my cheeks, as they were already wet. I wasn't going to leave until I could see him again.

I felt an arm wrap around my torso and knees in attempt to pick me up, and my eyes snapped open. I kicked and hit whatever there was to hit, and a police officer took my arm roughly. He was too strong so I sunk my teeth into his wrist, and he grunted in pain. He took my other hand and forced it behind my back, and I screamed I used all of my strength to try to run, or just to force myself back to the iron gates.

"Let go!" I screamed as I threw a kick at his stomach, but he was too big more me to do any harm to him whatsoever.

"No!" Tears were blurring my vision. I couldn't see well, as it was dark, but my arm broke free and I reached out for the iron gate.

"Let me in! Stop! Please!" I screamed as loud as I could, and flailed my arms and legs in attempt to fight the policeman that was dragging me away. The gruff officer muttered some curses, but I could barely hear it because of the wailing, sobbing, and screaming that surrounded me. The iron gate got smaller as I got weaker, still trying to fight back. I wrestled my arm free, and I threw it at the gruff officer's face, and he grimaced and flinched. I squirmed free, and ran as fast as I could back to the iron gate, my feet thumping on the ground. I grasped the iron bars which were cold now, and I shivered as I fell to my knees.

He couldn't be gone.

I'd only knew Garry for a day, or maybe just hours. But it felt like he was a close friend, as he'd saved my life many times. I've actually felt I've known him all my life. His warm smile, his lavender hair, his torn jacket. His love for the simple things in life, preferring a good book and some macarons over a trip across the world. Tears dripped off my face, as images of his smiling face flashed in my mind. Lemon candy.

He had given me lemon candy. I remember now.

Mary had snatched the candy out of my hands and gobbled it up.

Anger took over me, and my hands were going numb, as I was clutching the cold iron so hard. I wanted to crush it in my hands so I could go into the museum and prove to myself Garry wasn't gone. There was still a thread of hope. I held onto that thread for dear life, as I was picked up and taken away. I was too tired to fight anymore, and I closed my eyes in dismay.

"Ib! You're awake! Do you remember what happened?" Mom said, looking over me as my eyes fluttered open.

"Mary said that you were staying late at the library, but you never came home! I was so worried about you..." I sat up, the sorrow in my chest not ceasing.

"Guertena art...gallery," was all I could say.

"I was so worried because it was reported that people have gone missing around that museum! And when I heard you were there, I was so relieved to see that you were only asleep!"

"Paintings..."

"The paintings? What about the paintings? Honey, what happened? Why were you there? I remember we went there three years ago..."

"Where are... paintings..." I said in a daze. The right words wouldn't come out of my mouth.

"The Guertena Art Exhibit was closed up because people had gone missing there! All of the art is boxed up..." she said, and I widened my eyes. There's still hope. I just need to see his face one more time...

"...And is going to be burned," It felt like my insides started suffocating, and I was starting to have trouble breathing, and I felt I started hyperventilating.

"Ib!" Mom said, and laid me back down. I steadied my breath, and tried to talk again.

"When?" I said with a raspy voice.

"Sometime next week. I don't think it's really a good idea to burn priceless art, but it's their call. They're inviting people to come see it one last time, also," she said. My eyes widened, and I tried to speak, but my throat got caught up.

"Uhm, you want to go? Is that what you want, honey?" I gave a slight nod, and she gave a weak smile.

"Of course we'll go," she said. The door creaked open, and Mary let herself into my room.

"Is Ib okay?" she asked.

"Ib is fine Mary, now let's go back downstairs," Mom said, and put her arm around Mary, and walked out the door.

Mom slowly parked in an open spot, and I hopped out of the car. Without warning, I sprinted over to the crowd and the puff of smoke. We were a few minutes late, and they've already started. Mary had refused to go, and stayed home with Dad, and Mom reluctantly brought me here. I pushed through the crowd, and watched as a painting was burned. The warmth of the fire felt good to my skin, but my heart beated in my ears and I wanted to see the Forgotten portrait so desperately.

"The Hanged Man," the man said, and held up a painting of a man hanging by his foot. I recognized the painting, and it was thrown into the fire. It burned up rather quickly, and I felt the least bit of sorrow.

"The Lady with Her Umbrella," he said, and held up a rather nice picture of a lady with an umbrella. Tears were shed all around me, but my face was dry and my facial expression unchangeable. I kept a neutral face as painting after painting was burned. Some people really did love Guertena's works.

"Fabricated World," the man said, and there was a large mural that was all too familiar. I hated the mural, as it was the reason the whole thing happened and Garry ended up dead. But I loved it at the same time, because it was the reason we met. If it weren't for the mural, I would've never seen Garry's warm smile, or his torn coat. I would've never known him... and that's just as devastating as the bitter end.

"Forgotten Portrait," Like a dog, my ears perked up, and my heart sunk. The man held a canvas over his head, which depicted a sleeping man in great detail, his hair covering his left eye, and he was sleeping in a big heap. He looked so peaceful, yet his face was full of dismay and agonizing pain. Before I could observe any more detail of this man, Garry, it was thrown into the fire. I watched in horror as the flames licked the frame, and his sleeping face. Tears streamed down my face, and I couldn't take it. I ran and stumbled into the fire, and wrapped my arms around the painting. There were screams and gasps of horror, but I didn't care. Excruciating pain filed throughout my body, as I was being burned alive. The pain felt good, because it was what Garry had felt at one point. Every time my heart beated, it echoed throughout my ears, and agonizing pain stung through my body. But my heart just beated faster and faster as I held the painting closer, and it created a cycle of never ending misery and pain. But at least I could die with my lost friend in my arms.

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**T.T I am in the most depressed mood ever. Bah, I've felt so bad not for uploading, this is what the product is. This fic was inspired by: ****Ama no jaku cover by Gakupo (Look it up)**

**Thanks for reading. Imma die in a hole now. **


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